SlavaOn
Jedi Master
This might as well be my masterpiece. One girl called it "heavy duty". I started writing this poem in a gym, either while hanging upside down on an incline bench or during a headstand. I remember seeing a half-empty bottle of water that someone left on the floor and I wrote is as an opening line in my notebook, while still upside down: "A bottle of water left on a floor". Quickly, "water" in that line turned into "wine". It took 2 days to write the 1st part, 2 more days to write the 2nd part and another 2 days to right the last piece. I didn't have any preconceived plans or plans for its ending, it just came out the way you read it. The title I gave to the poem was hinting at the ending. I don't want you to guess the ending before you arrive there and removed its title here. It is better to read this poem rather slowly and aloud. Keep the pauses where appropriate. Or, even better, let someone else read it to you.
Prologue
A bottle of wine left on a floor
Half-empty, half-full
My mind is elsewhere, wandering about things
Half-stupid, half-fool
You are the one constantly on my mind
Half-naked, half-dressed
What would I give, to be closer to you
Half-touching, half-pressed
I know, I know, I am out of my mind
Half-delirious, half-obsessed
And yet, the nagging thought continues
Half-bugging, half-pest
What chance do I have without money, without power
Half-jester, half-clown
To win you over my fair lady
Half-royalty, half-crowned
God has answered my silent prayers
Half-unwittingly, half-unaware
An artist drew us in a picture: me - fully dressed
And you - almost certainly bare.
Interlude
There is no wine bottle, it's gone
There is a puddle of water spilled in front of an empty throne
Memories, like fallen leaves
That were blown away by cold winter breeze
Remind me the tales of the times past
When I was a jester at a king's fest
But, like the coals that are buried in ash
Desires still flicker disconnected from flesh
That artist crazy in a fit of madness
He transferred my soul to a painted canvas
I can not hear, I can not ask
My mouth is open in a smile grotesque
I am holding you in my arms
To see you eyes I have no chance
For ever and ever I will be looking straight
Bound to my love in a twist of fate
The God had mercy on my damned soul
When a mirror was placed right across in the hall.
Epilogue
Time loses the meaning to those damned
Without beginning there is no end
The paints have faded and almost cracked
But the bonds are holding still intact
To free my soul from eternal void
That very painting should be destroyed
The years flew by. How many? I can't remember
I was constantly praying to God for surrender
The devil offered me full liberation
If I will him my soul for eternal damnation
The next man who will look straight in your eyes
Will haplessly fall for a nasty surprise
His body will take your soul as a host
His soul will become just a bodiless ghost
After six hundred sixty six years of hesitation
I finally caved in for Devil's temptation
The man came as if out of nowhere
With sad looking eyes at me he stared…
His name was Adolf Hitler… and I am very sorry -
You already know the rest of that story.
***
SlavaOn
Prologue
A bottle of wine left on a floor
Half-empty, half-full
My mind is elsewhere, wandering about things
Half-stupid, half-fool
You are the one constantly on my mind
Half-naked, half-dressed
What would I give, to be closer to you
Half-touching, half-pressed
I know, I know, I am out of my mind
Half-delirious, half-obsessed
And yet, the nagging thought continues
Half-bugging, half-pest
What chance do I have without money, without power
Half-jester, half-clown
To win you over my fair lady
Half-royalty, half-crowned
God has answered my silent prayers
Half-unwittingly, half-unaware
An artist drew us in a picture: me - fully dressed
And you - almost certainly bare.
Interlude
There is no wine bottle, it's gone
There is a puddle of water spilled in front of an empty throne
Memories, like fallen leaves
That were blown away by cold winter breeze
Remind me the tales of the times past
When I was a jester at a king's fest
But, like the coals that are buried in ash
Desires still flicker disconnected from flesh
That artist crazy in a fit of madness
He transferred my soul to a painted canvas
I can not hear, I can not ask
My mouth is open in a smile grotesque
I am holding you in my arms
To see you eyes I have no chance
For ever and ever I will be looking straight
Bound to my love in a twist of fate
The God had mercy on my damned soul
When a mirror was placed right across in the hall.
Epilogue
Time loses the meaning to those damned
Without beginning there is no end
The paints have faded and almost cracked
But the bonds are holding still intact
To free my soul from eternal void
That very painting should be destroyed
The years flew by. How many? I can't remember
I was constantly praying to God for surrender
The devil offered me full liberation
If I will him my soul for eternal damnation
The next man who will look straight in your eyes
Will haplessly fall for a nasty surprise
His body will take your soul as a host
His soul will become just a bodiless ghost
After six hundred sixty six years of hesitation
I finally caved in for Devil's temptation
The man came as if out of nowhere
With sad looking eyes at me he stared…
His name was Adolf Hitler… and I am very sorry -
You already know the rest of that story.
***
SlavaOn
